


Veronica Mars Trope-A-Palooza 2020

by EllieBear



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: 12 am confessions, Mutual Pining, No Beta! We die like men!, Only One Bed, VMTAP20, trapped due to circumstance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24972919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieBear/pseuds/EllieBear
Summary: A collection of one-shots created for the VM Fic Club "Trope-a-palooza 2020" event in July.
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Comments: 124
Kudos: 106





	1. Umbrella

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Jmazzy and all the VM Fic Club mods for hosting this event. Thanks to our Team Alliance leader, MarshmallowBobcat for kicking all our butts to produce new work.

Vancouver was always raining. After two years in the city, one would have thought that Veronica Mars would have learned to take an umbrella. One would also have thought that a woman of her maturity and attention to detail as a professor with the fine arts department at Emily Carr University of Art + Design would mean she would have owned at least one unique umbrella, emblazoned with images of art by the college’s namesake. But one would be wrong because it was always sunny in California, and even this ex-pat still thought of herself as a Californian through and through, which is why she found herself on a dreary April afternoon running for her destination as the clouds once again rolled over the mountains, catching her off guard, the thick scent of ozone pricking her nostrils.

Hurrying through Gastown, she kept her eyes on her high heeled boots so that she wouldn’t slip on the wet cobblestones. It’s also why when she ran smack dab into a sizable wall in an expensive black London Fog trenchcoat, it took her a moment to realize the wall was human until it grabbed her arm to keep her from falling over.

“I’m sorry,” the wall spoke.

“No, I’m sorry. I should have been…looking….”

Veronica’s gaze caught the deep brown soulful eyes looking down, and her breath hitched as her brain placed the memory of those exact eyes, younger and more daring, overlayed with the older man holding on to her.

“Logan.”

“Veronica. Veronica Mars.”

It was him. Twenty years later, it was him. His thick chestnut hair was receding ever so slightly, and his face was covered in a salt-and-pepper beard, but it was him, standing in front of her, a bright orange umbrella in hand.

“What...what are you doing here?” She gasped, pushing a plastered wet strand of blond hair from her forehead.

“What am I doing here?” His hand pressed to his chest, a wide grin spreading across his chiselled cheeks. “I’ve lived here for fifteen years, over in Tofino. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve lived here for two. I teach photography at Emily Carr.”

He realized he was still holding on her, and his hand dropped from her bicep.

“Then technically, since I’ve been here longer, it’s my city.”

Logan ran his hand through his damp hair, and yes, she confirmed that there was no ring on his left hand because he most blatantly showed her.

“Vancouver is big. I think we can share.”

His nose wrinkled at her as he pursed his lips. “Hmm. I don’t remember you like the sharing type.”

“Well, I may have to make an exception.”

Thunder rolled overhead, ricocheting between the old brick buildings, and she glanced up as the pitter-patter on the umbrella gained tempo.

“It looks like you may want to share something else with me.”

“What?”

“My umbrella.” Logan offered her his bent arm. “For now.”

For a second, she balked, unsure of what to do, but then she threaded her hand through, linking elbows with him and with a nod, he turned in a graceful spin to stand next to her, positioning the broad umbrella over them both.

“How many blocks are you trapped with me?” He asked as they begin to walk.

“Four, I think. I have a meeting at a gallery I’ve never been to before. And trapped may be an understatement as I could walk back out into the rain at any time.”

A twinkle appeared in his eye, and he flashed her a playful wink. “But then what fun would this be if you got soaking wet, and I stood by watching, keeping dry, all alone under my very sturdy umbrella.”

Veronica was suddenly aware of the irony that it was raining when she left Neptune, and Logan, behind when she was 18 years old. A lifetime. A lifetime had passed between them and not a word. Of course, she had stolen glimpses into his life over the years. She knew about his international philanthropy from an article in Newsweek she read in the dentist’s office and a spotlight on 60 Minutes she caught while laying in bed next to a sleeping lover. But never did their stars align. Until now.

“Well, I do have to get back to the SkyTrain after my meeting, so if you would like to wait for me, maybe we could walk again together, back to the station.”

Veronica had always been bold with men in adulthood, a trait she picked up thanks to Logan’s influence on her in her youth. It seemed appropriate to use it with him again.

“You know, I have been looking for a new piece of art for my condo. Something to go over the fireplace. Hanging out in an art gallery may give me some ideas or inspiration.” The corner of his lip twisted up into a smirk, creating deep grooves in his tanned face. “Maybe after your meeting, we can grab lunch together and catch up? There’s a little restaurant just back where we ran into each other that serves an amazing all-day brunch.”

They paused at the street corner to wait for the light to change green before proceeding, and Veronica tightened her grip on his arm as they walked, keeping herself from slipping.

“There’s no place you have to be today?” She asked him hesitantly.

“No,” he smiled down at her. “Not anymore.”


	2. What's 30 Seconds to Us?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica fights a tight timeline to confess something very important to Logan.

**12:48 a.m.**

_This is Logan with today's inspirational message. "And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us." Pablo Neruda. Leave me a message from whatever city you're in._

Hi. It's me. Look, I know we said our goodbyes before you flew out to Virginia, but I'm just sitting in my car, waiting for a mark to come out of the Camelot and I started thinking about you. I've been staring for the last hour at the balcony where we first kissed and all I can think about is how you kissed me right _there._ Okay, actually I kissed you first but that was an innocent thank you kiss for saving my butt howe...

**12:50 a.m.**

_This is Logan with today's inspirational message. "And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us." Pablo Neruda. Leave me a message from whatever city you're in._

Ugh. Fuck. Stupid voice mail cut me off. Okay. I just feel that I didn't properly convey how much I'm going to miss you when you left. The two weeks we spent together were amazing and beautiful and I want you to know that if you're worried that I'll do something stupid like run away again or be with someone else that you don't have to. Don't worry because I'm here, waiting patiently for you to come back. What's 178 days to us? But I…

**12:52 a.m.**

_This is Logan with today's inspirational message. "And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us." Pablo Neruda. Leave me a message from whatever city you're in._

Wow. 30 seconds really just flies by, doesn't it? By the way, you may want to change your settings so your new girlfriend can leave you long and poetic messages. Even though this is not turning out as poetic as I had it in my head. More like rambling drunk Jack Kerouac than Emily Dickenson. I'm not drunk, for the record. I'm just in my car and it's getting late and, shit, I haven't even told you what I called you to say but...

**12:54 a.m.**

_This is Logan with today's inspirational message. "And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us." Pablo Neruda. Leave me a message from whatever city you're in._

I love you. Okay. I love you. And I wanted you to know but your stupid voice mail keeps cutting me off. I know it sounds ridiculous because we just got back together but I do really and truly love you. I think on some level, I always have. But now that you're gone I feel it just so deeply that I wanted you to know before you shipped out. That I love you Logan Echolls. That's all I have to say. Goodbye. Be safe.

  
  


**5:34 a.m.**

_You've reached the personal voicemail of Veronica Mars. Leave me a message. Thanks!_

Hey Veronica. Just about to ship out and I got your message. Wow. I'm glad you left that as a message so I could play it back a few times to make sure I wasn't dreaming. For the record, I love you too, Veronica. Kind of the same thing, always have, always will. You stay safe too. Neptune is still the hellmouth it always was, it just got a lot more interesting now that you're back. I love you. Yeah. That's all. Just, I love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! When writing for radio, the average 30 second spot is 75-85 words. You're welcome. lol


	3. Happy To Be Stuck With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica is trapped. Logan just needs to figure out how to get her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times! Explicit sexual content warning for the Trapped by Circumstance fic.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185100680@N02/50090742493/in/dateposted-public/)

“Fuck, that was amazing.”

Veronica wriggled naked on top of the sheets, her hands still cuffed together above her head to the wrought iron headboard. She rotated her wrists against the metal to bring circulation back to the tips of her fingers, letting the warmth of her last orgasm spread to the very ends of her body. Logan dropped the nipple clamps on the ground with the other sundry toys leftover from their afternoon escapade and flopped into bed next to her.

“Do you like the cuffs better than the ropes?”

Veronica wrinkled her nose at him and cringed. “Would you think terribly of me if I admitted this played to a few very specific dreams I had when I was sixteen and there was a deputy with the Sherriff’s department that looked _exactly_ like Brad Pitt?”

Logan’s laugh shook the bed and he rolled towards her, planting a quick kiss on her lips. “Glad I can make _all_ your fantasies come true.”

As he retreated, Veronica thought about asking for round two, but round one was so long and intense that there was no way she would survive round two at this time. Glancing at the clock, she groaned.

“Shit. Dad’s going to be home with the kids soon. We’d better clean up and look parental again.”

When Logan brushed his lips across her tender nipple, she gasped and he chuckled, scratching his beard as he retreated from the bed again. 

“Fine. I would have been up for another round but if you insist…” His palm came down on the bedstand and he paused. His head darted, to the left, then to the right. “Shit.”

“Shit?” Veronica tried to turn herself as best as she could in the prone position she found herself in. “What, _shit_?”

Dropping to his knees onto the ground, he disappeared along the edge of their king-sized bed, only his smooth, naked ass peeking up over the top.

Fear rippled through Veronica when he didn’t reply to her question and she wriggled more, trying to get a good angle to see what he was doing.

“Logan…”

His head popped up, white as a sheet, eyes wide like saucers. “I...I can’t find the key.”

Veronica’s mouth dropped open in horror. “Whadaymean you can’t find the key??!! It was right there!”

“I know! I put it down right there but now it’s gone!” He dropped down to his knees again and the lamp shook as he moved the stand. “Maybe it dropped behind when I went to plug in the Magic Wand…”

“This can’t be happening…” Veronica groaned. “Seriously Logan. I don’t want to be trapped in bed all day.”

“Motherfucker!” His head popped back up and he stood, naked at the edge of the bed. “Look. I think it fell into the vent. I’m going to go get a screwdriver and…”

They both froze at the sound of banging coming from downstairs. Veronica’s heart paused for a moment before kicking into high gear at the sound of a bunch of small footsteps charging through the main floor of the house, her father’s voice calling up the stairs.

_“Hey, Veronica! Logan! We’re home!”_


	4. Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of mutual pining and UST for everyone today. ;)

It was juvenile. Something that would happen to a horny teenager and not a twenty-five-year-old woman. 

And maybe it was because she had just called off her long engagement to Duncan or maybe it was because on this particular day she had one too many glasses of white sangria in the sun on Lilly’s roof-top patio, but when Logan arrived and immediately stripped down to his little black swim trunks, flexed his strong arms over his head, showing off the tanned muscular contours of his back and dove into the private pool, Veronica’s mouth went dry, and her core got wet.

_Damn_.

_When did Logan Echolls become so hot?_

Lilly had mentioned that Logan had become the captain of the Yale Sculling team, but it had been years since she saw him in person, let alone with his shirt off, her last recollection of him surfing on warm summer days with Duncan before leaving for college to pursue his masters in English Literature. If this was her reintroduction to him, they were off to a good start.

He swam back to the pool edge, crossing his arms on the tiled border, shaking his dark hair out of his eyes, that beautiful mouth of his twisting into a wide grin. Licking his lips, his gaze travelled the length of her body, stretched out on the wicker lounge chair and she mentally complimented herself on her choice of the aquamarine string bikini on this particular day.

“Well, well, Veronica Mars. You certainly have grown up into a fine looking woman.”


	5. Night At The Stickett Inn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is only one bed at the Stickett Inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Jmazzy for her picture prompt of the *actual* Stickett Inn. There was just no way I could let this pun go without making it into a fanfic for you, Joce.

* * *

**Cottage - Room 5**

* * *

"We're trapped in a snowstorm, with only one bed, at the Stickett Inn, Veronica. I think the universe is trying to tell us something."

“That when Mac invites me to another intimate little wedding in Barryville I should check the guest list and the weather for New York State before proceeding?”

Veronica looked up from her true-crime paperback and over at Logan lying on his pillow just a few inches away from her. Even as an adult, he still liked to wear baggy boxers to bed with a t-shirt, but Veronica still wasn’t too sure about the scraggly beard he insisted upped his writer cred. When she first saw it on a dust-jacket at Barnes & Nobel, she actually guffawed so loudly that people turned and gave her the stink-eye. 

Rolling her eyes, she dropped the book onto her lap and sighed, pulling the collar of her red flannel pyjamas to cover her chest a bit more. 

“I doubt Mac and Wallace will be doing this again,” Logan stated.

“Nope. They better not. This whole _friends to lovers_ thing has been overdone anyway. It’s a cliche. They need to get married tomorrow morning and stay married forever.”

“I thought that’s what we were? Friends to lovers?” Logan rolled on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at Veronica.

“No. That was friends to enemies to dating to enemies to lovers to nothing. You’re subverting your tropes. Which for a writer, I think it’s a crime punishable by death.”

“I actually think it was enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers to pining from afar.”

“We were not _lovers_ the first time. And I have not been pining for you from afar for the past ten years.” She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

“I think the orgasm I gave you in the back of the Xterra would prove you wrong. And I have not been pining either unless you count thinly-veiled characterizations of you in my stories as such.”

Her finger flew up in the air, ready for a fight, and she twisted and turned towards Logan. “Okay, one...no penis ever touched vagina during that time, so it doesn’t count as _lovers_. That night was just some heavy petting that got out of hand.”

“Are you seriously debating this with me now?”

“What else do we have to do? This room is all bed, and there’s no television.”

Her hand swept around, showing off the red brick room containing their giant king-sized bed, an antique oak dresser, and not much else.

“Look, if you had just RSVP’d like a normal human, we wouldn’t be sharing this room anyway. So any snark about this situation needs to be toned down. As the only single person who you have shared a bed with previously in the wedding party, this was a natural solution to the room problem.” Logan shrugged.

“I told Wallace that I could make it after all when I talked to him last week. I couldn’t, then I could. It happens.”

“Well, I cleared my schedule for this. Clearly, I’m the better friend.”

“You’re a writer! Your schedule is always clear. I work for the F.B-fucking-I. I have a lot on my plate.”

“Is that why you came, solo?”

“I prefer it this way.”

“You prefer to _come_ solo? Because I’m also down to watch that.”

“Logan!”

“What?! There’s no TV, and I’m bored. And like I said...we are literally at the Stickett Inn. If we don’t have sex, it would be a crime against puns. And I say that in all sincerity as a writer.”

Her huff of annoyance turned into a little laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I thought that was what you liked about me?”

“That’s not the only thing I liked about you.” An amused smile crossed her lips, and she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow so she could be eye with him.

“Like what? And please say _massive throbbing member_ so I can legitimately use it when I write about this later.”

“Oh my god, what am I supposed to do with you?!”

“See, this conversation just keeps circling back to the inevitable.”

“Real romantic, Logan.”

“You know how romantic I can be, Veronica. This...this could just be fun. Just a little bootie call without the need for cell phones.”

“Friends with benefits?” She questioned, eyebrow arching in query as a crooked smile passed her lips.

“Fuck friends? Bennifriends? Netflix and chill with no Netlfix?”

“It...could be fun. Relieve a little tension.” Veronica mused.

“No commitment. Just one night only. A sexual encore as it were.”

“Just two, mature adults engaging in some healthy exploration of their sexuality.” Veronica wiggled her body closer to Logan’s, her hand coming up to stroke his soft beard as she looked into his eyes.

Logan licked his lips. “Exactly.”

  
  


* * *

**Cottage - Room 1**

* * *

“Do you think it worked?” Mac asked as she crawled into bed.

“God, I hope so. I’m so sick of answering her roundabout questions about him. It’s been ten years. They need to get it together.” Wallace stated, and he opened his arm so Mac could cuddle up next to him.

“If they do hook up you realize we need to take this secret to our grave, right.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, we do.” Mac extended her pinky to Wallace, and he wrapped his around, leaning in to give her a soft kiss as he did. “No one will ever know.”

  
  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Covers (EllieBear stories)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24996892) by [VeronicaMarsFanArt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronicaMarsFanArt/pseuds/VeronicaMarsFanArt)




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